I moved to Nashville, TN 14 years ago to pursue my musical dreams. I made CDs, did some touring, changed genres, cowrote reluctantly and networked sheepishly, which led to a massive internal struggle between who I was and what my dreams told me I had to do.
At some point, even though music felt like the very blood in my veins, I had to surrender the fact that I didn’t want that life – that attending all the right events, hanging out with all the right people, that never-ending climb up the music industry ladder… and ultimately a life on the road. Shoot, I didn’t even want a weekend on the road. I just wanted to sing and be creative and have friends that I could be creative with.
I had no choice but to to either pursue a life I didn’t really want, or to give my dream a major remodel.
Around this time, I had a couple of kids. Turns out, they are the best little humans on the planet and they kinda changed everything. They made my dream remodel feel liveable, necessary and downright joyful.
But don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t an overnight epiphany.
To know me is to know that I am an a soul-searching pseudo psychologist of dramatic proportions. I deeply mourned the loss/remodeling of my dream in all its splendor before peace finally set in. And you know what? Four years later, that peace has started to bloom into joy and purpose. One that exceeded what I knew was possible. This is God’s hand, of course. I take no credit.
And so slowly, daily, I am finding the unrequited blessings and joy in filling my days with these two little bright lights that are my babies. And, crazily enough, my creativity that lay dormant with ambivalence is resurfacing. I do artsy stuff, I write and am back to the graphic design I did as part of the web development I gladly abandoned. I am writing songs and playing my 110 year old upright piano again. Gigs these days consist of things like playing guitar and singing for Nashville’s homeless. Over a meal of spaghetti and meatballs, they join in on trumpet, piano, voice, handclaps (which always throws me off), and whatever else they have in their possession.
And now I have added another moniker to my rhetorical business card: Homeschooler. I can’t even believe I’m saying this, because honestly I never really pictured myself as a wife, mother or teacher. And now, all three have picked me. Who knew?
This unexpected life has slowly morphed into a whistling tea kettle of ideas that give me that giddy, adolescent feeling I thought was lost: like the world is at my front door, barefoot in cutoffs and sun-kissed cheeks saying “can you come outside and play?” And the answer is yes.
Yes, just as soon as I get my 2 year old to finish going potty.